It's four in the morning.

FOUR!

I can't believe I'm still awake. Once upon a time, this might have been a normal occurrence, but that was a million years ago. Nowadays I'm in bed by one. Two at the very latest. I have to get up for work at six, so there are no more late nights. Luckily tomorrow...er today, is Saturday and I can afford to lose a little sleep. But at the same time, it's almost depressing that I'm getting this annoyed by the disruption in my sleeping pattern. I must really be getting old.

It's just weird. I've never in my life - not even after Hobbs bashed me in the head - had trouble sleeping. Sure, I had nightmares. Who wouldn't have? But I never suffered from insomnia. Nothing works. I've tried everything.

I listened to classical music, thinking that would surely lull me into oblivion. All I got was a new interest in Johann Sebastian Bach.

I read, thinking my eyes might get tired, but all that did was get me really deeply involved in the new Stephen King thriller. Probably not a good choice either, since I've been jumping at the slightest noises for the past two hours.

I even drank warm milk, even though I can't stand that skim shit that's always in our refrigerator.

During a desperate moment, I even ran about five hundred multi-colored sheep through my imagination.

Not even a yawn, for all the trouble.

The two great rounds of sex the night before hadn't even served to tire me in the slightest. My body, yes, my body is exhausted. My mind, however, is constantly churning and whirring a mile a minute.

It's all due to that damn phone call. It has been weighing on my mind all day.

How did he even get my number? It's unlisted. I know for a fact that none of my friends would divulge the information. They all know how I feel about him. They all know how he feels about me, since he made it so abundantly and embarrassingly clear.

It had been a simple enough call. Short and sweet. The all-too familiar voice had shocked me into silence and the man on the other end had taken advantage of my inability to say "fuck off" and had asked if he could see me. I could hear the hesitation. The nervousness in his voice. It was a sign of weakness and I knew it was important if he called me after all this time. That was the only reason I agreed. I'm almost positive. Yeah. That's the only reason.

I would like to visit you for a while
Get away and out of this city
Maybe I shouldn't have called but someone had to be the first to break
We can go sit on the back porch
Relax
Talk about anything
It don't matter
I'll be courageous if you can pretend that you've forgiven me

I roll over and try out my right side one more time. I've tried every single position possible tonight and I don't mean in a good way. I turn my pillow over so that I get the least used side. There's nothing like a cold pillow on a warm night.

Finally, I settle down and feel my husband shift behind me. Strong arms snake around my waist. I look over my shoulder and see him, still half asleep, frowning at me. He worries about me too much sometimes.

"I know you're nervous," he says, "but you won't be worth a shit if you don't get your beauty sleep."

I smirk. Trust him to cheer me up without having any intention to. "Tried. Can't sleep," I explain, though it's only so obvious.

"I figured as much. C'mere." His arms pull me closer until our bodies are pressed together tightly. The warmth radiating from the body behind me, surrounds me and I am finally content. "You know I don't want you to see that prick. But...if it helps you to do it...I'm not going to hold it against you."

Jeez. How understanding can one person be? I smile, knowing how hard that admission was for him. "Thank you." I turn and press a small kiss to his full, ruby red lips. I love him so much at this moment. I know that he is less than thrilled about this new development. My past suddenly popping back up. And he knows that I don't need his permission to do this. But he also knows that I want it. I want him to understand and be okay with my decision. I don't want this to be something that will hang between us, just waiting to be picked up during some random fight as an easy weapon. "I love you."

"You too," is the sleepy reply I get in return. The steady, warm breath on my neck tells me that my lover is finally asleep again.

Out of nowhere - okay not nowhere - again, the phone call comes back to me. I wondered, idly, how he even knows about us. He gave several indications that he was caught up on my life as it was. Too bad I haven't had the same advantage. How did he know about our commitment ceremony? About our ten wonderful, hard-fought years together? He and I know too many of the same people for it to have been kept a secret for long, I guess. But at the same time, I can't help but wonder who finally had the guts to tell him. And had that been the reason for his sudden urge to set his eyes upon his long forgotten boy?

Because I don't know you anymore
I don't recognize this place
The picture frames have changed and so has your name
We don't talk much anymore
We keep running from the pain
But what I wouldn't give to see your face again

At one point in my life...long long ago, in a far off galaxy, I would have thought for sure that he would be there forever. He would always be there for me when I need him. And I did everything in my power not to let him down. To make him proud of me. It had never been enough. That much is obvious to me now. Nothing would have helped. I know that above all things, I did everything I could to keep the relationship solid. It wasn't my fault.

Not that blame was the issue. No. There would be no pointing of fingers. I'm past that.

Part of me wishes that I had been the first to initiate contact. It would have given me more control of the situation. As it is, the man that I haven't seen in nearly ten years is scheduled to arrive at my home - the home that I share with my lover - at noon.

That would be exactly seven hours and thirty-seven minutes from now.

I have to force myself to let the worry go. I feel the pull of sleep finally descending on me and I think that it's about damn time. I interlace my fingers with those of my husband and sigh just as the lights go out in my head and I slip into a, not-so-peaceful but not really uncomfortable, slumber.

Are you still the same?
Has your opinion changed?

It is now eleven fifty-nine. I'm sitting on the edge of the sofa, holding my breath. By now I must be blue in the face. I just can't seem to relax. Of course, that's to be expected right?

My love claimed that he had errands to run and would conveniently be gone until around two. Of course, he is only making sure that I have room to do and say what I need to my visitor, without the looming figure of my other half in the background. It was terribly considerate of him. I think he might have also wanted to spare himself the aggravation of dealing with the �guest'. I can't really blame him for that.

I know I let you down
Again and again
I know I never really treated you right
I've paid the price
I'm still paying for it everyday

The doorbell rings and I jump. Twelve on the dot. Punctual as always.

I take a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

Nervous butterflies are suddenly attacking my insides.

I approach the door and through the frosted glass, I can see his silhouette. My artist's eye wants to kick in and I long to draw the dark figure before me. Throwing the door open, our eyes meet and I can tell that he's as shocked as I am.

The years had taken a toll on him. He looks much older than I remember him. Then again, I guess he'll always look young and brilliant to me. That's just my mental image of him.

I'm sure my own changes surprise him. My hair has grown out of it's white blond and into a darker dirty blond. I wear a goatee. I have abandoned tight tees with my youth and now stick to a more conservative look. Unlike him, there isn't a wrinkle on my face. But I know that my eyes more than show my years.

He looks at me with fear and doubt etched on his face and I think that maybe, just maybe he's ready to try. Maybe we can attempt to regain a semblance of what we once had.

I hope that I'm making the right decision. That I won't be hurt once again by letting the man into my life.

Smiling tentatively, I open the door wider and step back, allowing him to enter. "Hi dad."